The Tooth
by SteelAndFire
Summary: I'm rating this T to be safe, but it's not really that violent. This is my first story and I don't want to get banned :D It's about a dark elf kid who finds a dragon's tooth. I know it has a lot of problems, so review and I can try to fix them! :D
1. Chapter 1

The boy ran through the house, not looking where he was going. He could hear his sister gaining on him, could hear her enraged yelling.

"Get back here, stupid!" she shouted. "The more you run, the more you'll hurt when I catch you." She was panting, tired from chasing the idiot male around the whole house. He was supposed to be cleaning the chapel like a good little boy, but of course the stupid kid had to run away. If the Matron Mother came back now, she'd be in trouble. She kept running after him, furious.

The boy knew his sister was angry, knew he'd be in trouble when she caught him. He wasn't really old enough yet to grasp the futility of his efforts. He saw an open door and dashed in, slamming and locking it behind him.

The room was not currently occupied, but it did seem as if someone lived here. There was a bed, left unmade. There were hundreds of shelves, crammed with jars and boxes of interesting stuff. If the boy had not been in such a hurry to find a hiding place, he would have spent hours poring over the enchanting contents of this single room. He stumbled over the clutter on the floor, towards another door. He flung it open and there was a closet. His sister had reached the room door now and was kicking it, yelling all the while. He stepped into the closet and closed that door. There was no lock, but he really had no other choice.

The closet was illuminated by a blue light. It was gentle, not too hard on his eyes and it took him just a few seconds to adjust his vision. He could hear his sister slamming around in the room now. It was a wonder she hadn't found him yet.

The closet smelled musty and he looked around, inspecting his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was a large rectangular panel. In the panel, he saw a frightened dark elven boy, crouched in a closet. Wait, the boy wasn't in a closet. He was in a cave.

The boy in the closet stared.

Then he heard his sister say, sounding exhausted but triumphant.

"Oh, of course. The closet."

Without thinking, the boy lunged at the panel. He slid through whatever barrier divided this world and the other, landing safely on the other side. Now he was sitting in the cave. He saw his sister standing in the closet, looking around, confused. She didn't seem to see him in the panel.

Not questioning his good fortune, he glanced around the cave.

It was a good sized, round 'room'. There was a tunnel leading off somewhere and the boy got up and sprinted towards it, still following his instinct to get away from his sister.

The tunnel was long and straight, it seemed to go on forever. The boy ran for a while, but then he was tired and so he walked. As he was walking along the tunnel, wondering what he was going to do, he noticed something on the ground.

He leaned over and picked it up. It was white and sharp, like a claw or some carnivore's tooth. He rubbed it, sniffed it, trying to discern what it was. He was unable to tell, but he liked the way it looked. And besides, it was his. No one else in the whole world even knew it existed. He carefully put it in his neck purse.

He continued walking down the tunnel, drawing strength from the strange tooth in his possession. Finally, he arrived at another room. It was a good sized, round 'room'. There was a rectangular panel leaning up against one stone wall. It seemed to be exactly where he had started out at. Had he turned around without realizing it?

He was hungry now, though, and he considered climbing through the panel and trying to get something to eat. His sister would be really mad, though. But he had been gone a while, maybe she had calmed down a bit.

Finally, he decided that it didn't matter if he got beaten to a pulp, he was hungry and tired and this cave was starting to scare him. He climbed back through the panel, and once again he was sitting in the closet.

He pushed the door open, and to his shock, there was someone in the room, sitting on the bed. It wasn't his sister, it was another male. The older boy looked up and saw him.

"You!" he said. He sounded angry and the kid flinched.

"What the hell were you going into my room for? Faeryl came in here and tore everything up because you came in here and hid in my closet and then she couldn't find you in there and she was mad at ME!" He glared furiously at his younger brother. "Did you break my mirror?"

'Mirror?' thought the boy. 'Was that what it was?' Out loud he said, "No." He hadn't broken anything in the closet.

"Good." The other boy was still angry at him, but he seemed slightly pacified. "Well, go to Faeryl now. She's going to be furious with you, but the sooner you get it over with, the better."

The boy nodded and headed for the door. He bit his lip and said softly, "I'm sorry." before carefully closing the door behind him.

The Elderboy sighed, got up and started rearranging his clutter the way he liked it.

The boy walked up to the chapel door and knocked timidly. Faeryl opened it and glared down at him so fiercely he had to fight the urge to run again.

"I'm sorry." he whispered. Faeryl scowled. She did not look placated whatsoever. She grabbed his arm and yanked him into the chapel.

"Do you have any IDEA what kind of trouble I would have been in if the Matron Mother had found out you are so badly disciplined?" she screamed in his face. "Why do you have to be such an idiot! If you behaved yourself, I wouldn't punish you!"

"I tried to behave myself." he screamed back.

"No you didn't!" she screamed again. "You keep screaming at me!"

"You started it by screaming at me!" he screamed. He was also crying now, he knew she would win this one by beating him until he couldn't scream anymore. It wasn't fair!

"I'm allowed to scream at you, you idiot!" she screamed louder.

He screamed incoherently, having run out of things to say, but still angry. She snarled and tore her whip from her belt. He screamed again, this time in fear.

"I'm sorry!" he screamed. He turned to run, but she still had his arm and she brought her whip down on his back.. He cried loudly at first, but after a while he was quieter, whimpering softly and whispering that he was sorry, but either too hoarse or too frightened to make any louder noise.

She calmed down a little when he had stopped being so annoying. He drove her crazy. Here she was frantically studying, trying to do something important and this worthless little boy had to come into her life and screw everything up. She glared at him spitefully and brought the whip down once more onto his back. He let out a soft groan of pain and she sighed and let go of his arm. He dropped quickly to his knees, staring at the floor and trembling. He might only be five, but he learned fast.

That night, he was lying awake in bed. He lay on his stomach, his back throbbing and stinging. He had cried a bit more, but there really was no point in it and he was exhausted. He knew the next morning Faeryl would have him up again cleaning, and he needed to sleep. He was still furious at himself for running away so stupidly.

But...he had the tooth. He lifted himself onto his elbows, unfastened his neck purse and took out his treasure. He examined it carefully. He noted its size, its razor sharpness.

"Dragon?" he mumbled. He remembered seeing a picture in a book in the library (he had been punished for that one too) of a huge, black creature, breathing flame. With large, sharp teeth.

He shook the thoughts of his mind. He had to sleep.

He closed his eyes and began reciting the drow alphabet in his mind, his own special game to forget the pain, forget all the problems that were coming. He drifted off into sleep.

_There are black scales, long claws. Sharp white teeth, flashing in a wide red mouth. The eyes, scarlet and terrible. And the fur_y, _the anger. Thirsty for blood...for vengeance. I want to drink...off your fear...Destroy you, hurt you, break you, rip you, kill you, eat you. I want you to die screaming my name, begging for mercy. Feel me hating you, drow. I hate you, hate, hate, hate, hate. _

_Running, driven by the fear. Behind me, it's coming. It's wild and it's coming. Roaring and crashing after me. I'm screaming and I hear myself distantly. Like an animal caught in a trap, screaming and screaming and screaming. Stumbling, falling. Drag myself to my feet because it's coming and it's right on top of me and it's mouth is opening and I hear it's howl of rage. It hates me and it's angry and it's going to rip me apart. Into millions of pieces. _

_A face damp with sweat, eyes wide and terrified. Feet pounding the earth in a futile battle to escape. But the long, scaled hand has curled around the slender elven waist. _

_This...is...the...end.. I destroy you. And the scream. The scream..._

The scream ripped from the mouth of the boy and he sat bolt upright in bed. His white hair was plastered to his head with sweat and he shook.

After his surroundings and reality sunk in, the boy waited to see if Faeryl had heard his scream. She was not particularly forgiving about having her sleep interrupted. Apparently, she hadn't heard him this time, so he took a few deep breaths and lay back down. He closed his eyes, hoping the dream wouldn't return. It did not, and he sunk into a more peaceful sleep.

In the morning, Faeryl gave him the task of scrubbing the chapel floors. She was still slightly angry with him for running away yesterday. He worked quietly and steadfastly, giving her nothing to complain about. She sat on a bench, reading a book and watching him.

When he had finished his job, he came to her, carrying his bucket and rag.

"Done!" he announced happily.

"Then put the bucket away."

The boy turned around and as he took a step towards the door, his foot landed on a spider.

For a moment, both the boy and his sister were frozen. He had just committed a serious blasphemy. The boy felt his mouth go dry. He heard a distant roaring his ears, perhaps the sound of the whole world crumbling around him.

His sister got to her feet, pulled her whip from her belt and let out a furious scream. Her Goddess! The boy ran. This was not some minor or imagined infraction. This was blasphemy, treason, a crime against Lolth. If she caught him, she would kill him. Tear him apart with her whip and kill him. He was more terrified than he had ever been in his life. He ran.

He was aware of her pounding after him and it reminded him of something, (in some part of his mind where he wasn't throwing everything into running as fast as he could). _Dragon...blood...fury..fear. _The dream! She was the dragon, she was going to kill him, destroy him, for that spider, for her Goddess. He ran through the corridors of the house, frantic, desperate. He remembered though, that in the end of the dream, the victim was caught, that it was over. He was dead, he thought. But instinctively, he continued to run.

Then he crashed into the end of a corridor. She was coming, her whip in her hand, the snakes writhing and spitting venom. Faeryl's lips were drawn back in a rictus of hate. She despised him for being so weak and stupid, she was angry at him because he disturbed her life, and now she hated him because he had killed a spider.

He was aware of a throbbing pain throughout his entire body. His muscles and nerves were screaming in protest of being tormented like this. And somewhere inside him, a little voice was also screaming protest.

His sister was less then a foot away now, she raised her whip in one hand. Her other hand held the mace. He cringed, groping around for something to protect himself. It was futile, but everyone has an instinct of self defense. His hand closed around his small knife. He flung it blindly at her and cowered back against the wall.

He heard her shout of pain and disbelief and he looked up. The knife had struck her arm. She was bleeding and her eyes showed a strangely satisfying mixture of panic and hurt. She looked at him and there was a tiny flicker of fear in her eyes. She took a step back as he slowly stood up.

Now he understood.

He was the dragon. He was sharp claws and sharper teeth, red eyes and a gaping mouth. He was impenetrable black scales, fire and fury. And she was going to kill him for a spider. He screamed. Not in childish anger, not in fear. In pure, black hate. He lunged at her, clawing at her, itching to rip her apart with the fury of the dragon.


	2. Chapter 2

Note: Previously, it was a human girl. I've switched it to drow to make the story more believable

The boy, Dantrag, sat quietly in the cold, dark dungeon. His back, stinging and burning, rested against the cool stone wall. His eyes were closed and he was dimly aware of the tooth, still hidden inside his shirt. He was silently trying to reconcile the events of the past two days.

He had found the tooth, while running away from his sister. He had worn the tooth and had a scary, crazy dream. He had attacked his sister, against all logic, against everything he had ever been taught. But it wasn't fair...

The frustration and anger welled up inside him again, he could taste it, bitter on his tongue. Why did it have to be so stupid and unfair? Why did his sister have to be so mean? Why was everything the way it was? Why had he attacked her? Why hadn't he won? For one brief moment, he had been full of fury and hate. The next moment, he was confused, a frightened little boy again.

She had staggered back from his first assault, bleeding profusely, her hand grasping for her mace. He had been staring at the knife in his hand, at the blood on the floor. He had not known he could do that, he had not known it was possible. He had felt the anger again, but then he looked at her and he saw rage in her eyes as well. She was no longer off guard, her mace was in one hand, her whip in the other. His anger died and he had collapsed. And this was where he had woken up, with fresh whip wounds on his back.

Another why...why hadn't she just killed him then? He sunk back against the wall, a choked sob escaped his throat. It wasn't fair. It didn't make sense. He wanted terribly...someone to look after him, someone to pick him up and dry his tears and make everything okay again. If he had been a human child, he would be wishing for his mother. But the little drow boy's mother was another danger, not a sanctuary. He had no one in the whole world. He dissolved into helpless weeping, his shoulders shaking with the force of a mixture of frustration, confusion and fear too strong to be contained in his small body. He buried his head in his hands and cried.

Finally, hoarse and exhausted, he fell back into sleep.

When he woke up again, his stomach was crying for food. He was no stranger to hunger, having been denied meals before as a form of punishment. But it had been a LONG time and he was hungry. He still didn't know what was happening to him and he was close to collapsing with despair, yet he pulled himself to his feet and walked tentatively to the door of the cell.

There was no one in sight, so he sat down again, by the bars this time. He closed his eyes and waited, as patiently as a five year old can. Eventually, he drifted yet again into sleep. There was really nothing else to do, sitting in the cell.

When he woke up for the third time, his sister was standing over him. Not the one he had attacked, but the oldest. He was almost as frightened of her as he was of the matron mother. She was not like Faeryl, she didn't get angry or lose her temper. She was calm, collected, in full control of herself, and it seemed to the boy, in full control of everything around her. She was subtly, quietly, undeniably cruel. She smiled at him and he felt weak and small. He cowered away from her, feeling his heartbeat start to quicken in his chest.

"Hello, Dantrag." Her voice was tempered steel sheathed in silk. "Look at me." she said. He was staring at the floor, drawing breath in soft gasps. He had committed two horrible crimes, and she was the last person he wanted to see. Nonetheless, he looked up, into her beautiful, terrible, smiling face.

"Do you know what you've done, little brother?" she asked him after a few moments. His first instinct was to shake his head, so many times he had been in situations like this and had not known what he had done. But this time, he did. He nodded slowly, gulping.

She knelt down in front of him, still holding his gaze.

"We should sacrifice you to Lolth." she said sweetly. "Don't you think you would deserve it?"

He did deserve it, he thought. He had done horrible things, he was a traitor to the Goddess, he had attacked his sister. He nodded, terrified that she would take him away and plunge the sacrificial dagger into his chest and that would be the end of him. It was a justified fear, but in this case, it was not what happened.

Instead she took his chin in one small, slender hand. She glared into his eyes and he shrunk away from her.

"For some reason, a girl who is apparently somehow affiliated with Matron Baenre wants you." Dantrag stared at his sister, not understanding. She released his chin and stood up, towering over him. "I do not know who this child is or where she came from, but Matron Baenre backs her up. Our own honored Matron thinks it best to cooperate. Besides, you are worthless to us anyway." The boy looked at her with frightened eyes. He was even more confused now. Some unknown girl wanted him? What was she going to do with him?

His sister regarded him quietly for a few minutes. He stared at the floor and tried to fight back another wave of tears.

Finally, she said. "Get up." He obeyed, feeling his stiff legs scream out in protest at being forced to support his weight. She beckoned to him, seeming distracted now, as if thinking about something more important to him. He followed her out of the cell, up a corridor, up a flight of stairs. Now they were back in the house proper and he recognized their surroundings.

It hadn't really been that long, but it seemed like forever. Maybe his life hadn't been fun back then, but it had been okay. Now he was completely messed up. He considered falling to his knees and begging his sister for forgiveness. But he was not a complete idiot. He had committed a crime and all the pleading in the world would not move her. All he would earn would be a lash of her whip and more trouble. He walked along, a few paces behind her, feeling as if he was lost in a vast cavern, whose walls and ceiling were so distant that he could not see, and all around him was empty, bleak, meaningless gray cold. He didn't have the energy to cry or say anything or even think.


	3. Chapter 3

Note: I've made some changes in Chapter 2. If you don't feel like re-reading, it's basically that the previously human girl is now a drow girl.

Dantrag knelt on the floor, before his Matron Mother. She and his oldest sister were signing at each other, he suspected. In any other scenario, he would have been curious to see what they were saying. But now he didn't feel that it mattered. The damned tooth had come loose of his shirt when he knelt and was swinging from the string around his neck. He focused on it, cursing it silently, wishing he had never seen it or picked it up, wishing he had never ran away from Faeryl, wishing he had been a good little boy and never gotten himself into this stupid situation.

His futile wishing was interrupted by a slave announcing the arrival of a Lady Andrea. That must be the girl who wanted him. He didn't understand any of this. He wanted to collapse on the floor and fall asleep and never wake again.

He sensed his mother and sister tensing beside him, heard the girl enter the room. He watched her boots cross the floor to where the Matron Mother stood and he saw her long hair nearly brush the ground when she bowed.

"Greetings," said the Matron Mother. "We have the boy. I do not understand what in the Goddess's name you want with him, but beware that he is worthless for any real purpose. He has killed a spider and attacked a female. If you wish to torture him to death, go ahead."

"Well, thank you for that." he heard the girl say. Her voice sounded cheerful and yet there was a distant, dangerous edge to it. She sounded mean, to the boy, and he flinched inwardly. The girl was continuing. "As I promised, you will be paid." She did not specify how she would be paying them. He assumed his mother and sister must already know.

Next thing he knew, his sister dragged him to his feet and pushed him towards the stranger. He staggered and ran into her. He expected to be struck, but instead she put a hand on his shoulder, turned him around, and steered him towards the door.

The two dark elves walked through the corridors, down the steps, out of the house.

They went into an alley, smelling of filth. He would have been hugely disgusted if he wasn't so scared. He heard her chant something under her breath and a there was a loud sucking sound. He glanced up and saw a large circular hole, hovering over the ground. It gave off a soft blue light and the girl nudged him forward. Together, they stepped through the portal.

There was a disorienting feeling of dizziness as he went through and once he arrived on the other side, it took him a few moments to get his bearings. He was in a large room, the walls made of some substance he could not identify, but it didn't look like rock. He was standing on a large shaggy rug, similar to those placed at strategic locations around the room. There were two doors, one on the north wall, one on the east. There was also a large bag suspended from the ceiling on an iron chain in one of the corners. Except for that, the room was bare.

He wanted to look at the girl, find out what she looked like, but he didn't dare. She had released his shoulder and was now silent at his side.

There was a short silence and then she said, softly, "Dantrag?"

"Yes?" He tried to keep the fear out of his voice and failed miserably.

She knelt, making herself his height. "Can you look at me?"

He looked at her. She had unusually long hair. Her features were sharp and hauntingly beautiful, like all the dark elves. Her eyes, gleaming red with infravision, had a serenity in them such as he had never seen. He wondered what lay behind those calm, unreadable eyes. He wondered why she wanted him.

She smiled and it didn't seem so scary. He almost smiled back, but he didn't quite get there.

"Are you okay?" she asked him, in her soft, gentle voice.

"Yes." he said. He was not okay. He was cold and hungry and terrified and he wanted to know where he was and why she wanted him and what was going to happen. She looked at him for a few more minutes, as if imploring him to tell her the truth. He felt tears prickling behind his eyes and then he was crying. He tried desperately to stop, knowing crying frustrated people, but he couldn't calm himself down. He was giving huge gasping sobs, feeling the same hysteria wash over him as he'd felt in the cell.

She moved and he stumbled away from her, desperate to escape her wrath. She caught him though and held him, her arms wrapped tightly around him. He struggled for a few minutes, sobbing and trying to escape while she whispered over and over that it was okay. Finally he calmed, buried his face in her shoulder and wept.

She sat, pulling him onto her lap, rocking him and reassuring him in her quiet, gentle voice. If Dantrag had been older, he would have been more confused than comforted, but he was still young and not so indoctrinated to cruelty that he mistrusted the gentle girl. Eventually, he stopped crying and she tried to stand. He whimpered and held on, not wanting to let go, wanting to be safe with her forever. So she relented and hugged him until he slept.

Andrea stood up, lifting the boy with her. He was light, skinny and just generally tiny for a five year old. She knew he was an elf, but she'd seen surface elven children and they'd been nothing like this. She thought of how scared he'd been and was disgusted; not with the boy, with his mother.

She knocked the east door open with her hip and carried the boy down the hallway to the guest room. Bracing him on her knee, she flipped the bedcovers back and laid him down on the bed. She covered him up and looked at him.

He was filthy, had probably pissed himself at several points and no one had bothered to clean it up. From where he lay, on his side, she could see dried blood on his tattered shirt. He was five years old, and to her way of thinking, no crime deserved this. She could see the tooth, it had fallen out of his shirt at some point. She considered taking it off, but it might alarm the boy, and he wasn't in any danger, so it shouldn't be giving him nightmares.

She left the room, quietly closing the door behind her. Once back in the main room, she let the disguise drop and she was human again.


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, sorry I was out for so long. My internet went down and it took me ages to get it back up. I've written a chapter 3 and I changed chapter 2 so that the human girl is a dark elf. (Well, actually, a human pretending to be a dark elf.) That's to make it more realistic, because I figure even if the human is powerful, the drow will still have a very hard time respecting her. Thank you all so much for the reviews! Please keep giving me advice and suggestions.


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